Confessions of a Marriage Robin Hood

                Nobody wants to be a criminal. But sometimes circumstances force you to do things you wouldn’t normally do. That’s not an excuse, that’s the truth. If you’re hungry and there’s food on an unattended plate, you’re a big liar if you say you won’t eat it.

                Well, in the summer of 2013, I was hungry and I had to eat. Crime wasn’t my first choice, but it was certainly my last resort. Honestly, I don’t think what I did was a crime. Sure, people got hurt, but I didn’t kill anyone. Yet, I’m somehow responsible. Whatever.

                Like most things in this digital age, Facebook started all of this. I had been laid off from my job at one of the city’s large banks. While I sat on my sofa uploading my resume to a career web site, this ad popped up on my Internet browser. Married and Dating.

                I wasn’t married, but I was curious. Who were the people on this site? I ignored the ad for a few days, but every time I logged on to my computer, it popped up. Curiosity got the best of me, so I clicked the pop up, signed up for a free account and browsed. The number of married men and women on the site looking for a “discreet hook up,” floored me. Then I saw him, an executive from the very company that fired me.

                Wendell Pearson, bank vice president. He had been Mr. Family Values at work, but here he was looking for a woman who enjoyed anal sex. At first, it was funny. Then a thought crossed my mind, what if I sent him a message. Would he recognize a woman who he’d laid off? Didn’t he realize that he had a lot to lose by being on a site like this? I, on the other hand, had nothing to lose. So, I paid the forty dollars to become a full member of the site and then I sent him a message. Honestly, I didn’t expect a response from him.

                He responded in twenty minutes with one question: Do you like to get fucked in your ass?

                Of course, I took a screen shot of the message before replying, yes. I. Do.

                I’d done online dating before, the normal kind. This log on for immediate sex was revolting and dangerous in the age of HIV and other sexual transmitted infections. And Mr. Family Values didn’t even say hello.

                His next message asked for a picture – of my ass. Thanks to Google images, I sent him a nice black ass he could get excited about. And it worked because he wanted to meet me that night at a swanky downtown hotel. I agreed.

                And I guess this is where the crime part started.